If I'm So Great
by MilesAboveFantasy
Summary: Miles has to overcome the self-hatred he learned at the hands of his father. Soft-Triles, some Matlingsworth multiship. Set during episode 13x13. Contains child abuse and very mild sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Title: If I'm So Great...

Characters: Miles, Tristan, Maya

Summary: Miles has to overcome the self-hatred he learned at the hands of his father. Soft-Triles, some Matlingsworth multiship. Set during episode 13x13. Contains child abuse and references to sexual content within the teen rating.

Warnings: Child abuse, homophobia.

Notes: I'm writing this in an older style of Miles as this takes place in 13x13. Back when this episode aired, our view of Miles was entirely different and I am trying to emulate that some but also with consideration of what more we know about Miles after the fact. This fic is inspired by ideas from fics posted in fall of 2013 since I only joined the fandom at Next Class.

* * *

 **If I'm So Great…**

 _I._

Miles had been as nearly as happy as Maya when he heard the excitement in her voice for the music video she had made yesterday. She had called him last night ecstatic about her big break and couldn't wait for him to see it t. So here he was on the edge of his seat waiting to see the thing that made the girl of his dreams so happy.

It was news to him that Maya loved music though he couldn't really blame himself for not knowing. They had only been back from Paris for a few weeks and their friendship was just starting. He had tons more to learn about her and Tristan. Plus, he was a guy – it took the better part of his brain to look past her beauty, long wavy hair and perky breast to value the friend underneath. He vowed not to objectify her like he had all the girls of his past and see her for who she was. Maya and Tristan were the best friends he had made since Chewy and he didn't want to throw it away.

But Maya was making that incredibly difficult right now.

It pained him to see her twirling around on the screen half-naked and using sex for attention. He grimaced as she cuddled up next to him to share her excitement – a surprisingly small portion of the pain was caused by the pressure on his bruises.

His eyes shot to Tristan and Zoe in hope that at least one of them shared his feelings, but nope. Neither felt the slightest bit of anger at seeing their friend belittle herself for all to see. Zoe was just as enthralled in her handiwork as Maya and Tristan was basking in the risqué nature of it all.

His lips trembled and he had to stop his jaw from twitching before the tears started to pour. He tried to look at his lap but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen as the girl he liked so much showed off and felt so comfortable in her body. Jealousy tore through tore through him at the fact another person could feel so comfortable in their skin unlike him. It was only compounded by his jealousy of the more than attractive guy she was with.

'Take, take it all off. Look at the real me and don't ever stop. Take, take it all offfffff,' her sweet voice enchanted yet crushed him.

Why was she doing this to him? It was as if she thought the whole thing through and made it to tear him apart.

His eyes glazed over as his brain dragged him into a flash back from the previously week that he didn't want to relive – but his mind was his greatest tormentor.

 _"_ _Why can't you do anything right, Miles?" he father roared as he burst unceremoniously into Miles' room and flicked the light on._

 _"_ _Wha-what?" Miles mumbled as sleep addled thoughts adjusted to consciousness and he peered out of squinted eyes at his father through too bright a light. His whole body tensed in fear as the sharp crack of the door slamming tore through the room. "What did I do now?" he asked half-heartedly._

 _He yelped as his father pulled him out of bed by his arm and slammed him against the wall. It happened in the span of a second and his shoulder blades ached at the contact. He ignored the pain and glared daggers at his father._

 _"_ _You couldn't even make the fucking basketball team?" his father queried in a tone that didn't invite an answer._

 _Miles knew he wasn't getting out of this without a beating so he did what he always did – he wouldn't let his father know that he had already won._

 _"_ _I made the team, jackass. Both Tristan and I did," Miles retorted, then shrunk in terror as he realized his mistake. He fought back more tears at the slap in his face._

 _"_ _Just like you to say that, you fucking failure of a son. Not only are you friends with that fag, you can't even play basketball better than him. Pathetic," his father scoffed._

 _"_ _Whatever, fuck you. Can I go back to bed now?" Miles pleaded indignantly. Then he doubled over in pain as his father's fist met his gut._

 _"_ _Why can't you be like your sister and be good at school? Or your brother and be good at sports. Hunter is great at lacrosse."_

 _Miles looked up to his father and hissed. "And he hates playing it, like I hate playing basketball. The only thing I like about it is hanging out with my friends."_

 _His father kicked him in the side and Miles gasped with a sound he never wanted to repeat as he struggled to express his pain._

 _"_ _The fag friend? I thought I beat it all out of you when I took you out of that dance class," Miles vaguely heard his father say above him as he struggled to gather his thoughts. "You know what Miles, I don't even care if you are one. I give up on you. You're a scrawny little wimp anyway, not as if even that porker would go for you. Just make starter by the end of the semester or I guarantee you'll regret it. At least give me something good to say about you for the campaign. We'll get you steroids if we have to. Maybe if they shrink your balls enough you'll stop being a fairy, not that you ever had any."_

 _His father left the room and he stayed on the floor for hours unable to gather the will to move. His father had given up on him. His flaws couldn't be fixed. He wasn't worthy of even the most basic of fatherly love._

 _He didn't go to school the next day and felt nothing but pain until a text from Maya brightened his day._

Seeing the video that Maya was so excited about had been his reason for crawling out of bed this morning. Now that he saw it, it could only manage to send his stomach into a ache reminiscent of his father's punch.

His jaw was still shaking and his eyes were jumping in his head ready to burst with tears but he could hardly feel it as the world spun around him.

He was shaken to awareness by Maya shaking his arm. "So, what did you think?" she asked with a smile that simultaneously crushed as well as delighted him.

"Ye-yeah," he stammered. "It was great. If you like porn," he spat with venom and stood up to leave. He couldn't deal with this right now. He heard her ask in a sad voice to Tristan, "Is he okay?" and those words tugged at him and almost dragged him back into the room. But he crushed those threads.

He found his way to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. She didn't really care about him. Who would? He was a skinny, scrawny guy who failed at everything. He could never compete with the hot guy in that video that even he would go for. And the he watched himself slap his face in the mirror for that. He couldn't be gay. Couldn't show the slightest inclination or his father might very well end him.

He shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. It only made everything worse. He went to an empty stall, pressed his head against the wall and cried. No one could see how pathetic he was here.

 _II._

He missed his next class but he finally built up the courage to leave and go to the one after. It helped that he at least liked English. It was the one thing he excelled in though his grade didn't show it.

He was at his locker when Maya came up to him. He turned his eyes away in shame, but she spoke anyway.

"Are you made at me?" she asked.

He scoffed. "It's not like you're my girlfriend." _You would never like me anyway,_ was the only thought he could think of.

"Look, I'm sorry I said no to the Ed Sheeran thing," she said, but Miles cut her off.

"You see, I though you weren't ready for a relationship, but really you just didn't want a relationship with me," he snarled.

Maya blinked. "That's not true. I like you Miles, I just…" she trailed off.

"You just think I'm despicable. I get it Maya. I have awful teeth, a scrawny body and no muscle. Now go kiss your Prince Charming," Miles mock-encouraged as he walked off.

"Miles!" Maya cried following him. "That's not true. You're perfect the way you are."

"Ha!" Miles roared. "I've heard it all before Maya. You girl's always want my money. You know, I thought we were friends. I didn't think you were such a slut."

Maya froze in her tracks. "You did NOT just call me that," she exclaimed.

Miles scoffed as he turned around. "It's not just me, go check your Facerange."

And then he left. He had English class after all. Anything was more important than this.

 _III._

Miles skipped his last class and was waiting outside for when his mother would pick up his siblings and him. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes to catch some sleep. He had barely closed his eyes when a voice awoke him.

"What do you think you're doing?" he heard a voice roar. He opened his eyes and hissed as the sun burned into them.

Miles groaned when he recognized the voice. "What do you want Tris," he asked.

"Coming to see what's up with you?" Tristan said. "Calling Maya a slut was not okay."

Miles closed his eyes for a moment before speaking. "Look, maybe it wasn't the best thing to say. But… she made that video just to hurt me."

Tristan laughed without mirth. "Ugh! I'm not even sure if I should be mad at you for being so self-absorbed, or worried that you actually think she would make that video to upset you. Ugh!" Tristan crouched down next to Miles. "First thing first, I guess. Why do you think she made that video to hurt you?"

Miles sighed, his eyes still closed to block out the sun. He turned to Tristan's general direction before speaking. "I don't know, Tris. Maya's just… she's so beautiful and pretty. She's so comfortable in her body and when I saw her with that guy, I was jealous."

"Don't worry, Miles," Tristan said. "She isn't leaving you for some random hot guy."

Miles laughed and cracked open his eyes to get a look at Tristan. "While I'll give you that he is hot, that's not why I was jealous." He was silent for a moment and he gulped nervously as Tristan analyzed what he said. "I was jealous of how comfortable she was in her body. And how nice it is."

"Ohhhh," Tristan said. Then, "Ohhhh," as true realization dawned on him. "Maya mentioned that you seemed… unsatisfied with your body."

Miles laughed sardonically at that. "Unsatisfied? Try fucking hating it? I'm scrawny, skin and bones, I hate looking in the mirror and I hate having to smile because my teeth are all wrong." Miles stretched his hands above his head, then pushed himself up.

He heard Tristan gasp and he looked to see the blonde covering his mouth in shock. Miles laughed again at that. "What Tris, can't take dark? Can you only be my friend when you think I'm the confident, happy guy you met back in Paris?"

"Miles," Tristan said, as he reached his hands towards Miles' ribs. Miles jerked at the contact and tried to roll away, only to be stopped by a gentle hold by Tristan. "Miles," Tristan repeated. "Talk to me."

"About what, Tris," Miles grumbled. "You don't really care about me, no one does."

"I care about you Miles. You're a great guy no matter what. You care about your friends even if you have a hard time showing it sometimes."

"If I'm so great Tris, then why…" Miles began. "Never mind."

"Tell me, Miles." Tristan begged.

"Whatever, Tris," Miles said as he scanned Tristan's eyes. "Sure, I'll bite. If I'm so great, why do I hate myself? I can't pretend anymore Tristan," Miles croaked. "I thought I really stood a chance with Maya, but she doesn't want me. Why would she?"

"That's not true, Miles. Maya cares about you. She sent me after you, after all."

"And not because you wanted to?" Miles asked snidely.

Tristan blinked with shock. "Of course I wanted to Miles. We're friends."

Miles rolled the word over his tongue. "Friends."

"Yes, Miles, friends. I care about you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a good person, Miles. You try to act all tough, but deep down you're a good guy. I didn't understand why before, but I do now. You have a vulnerability – you understand what it's like not to be perfect. You never judged me, not really. You don't understand how nice it is to have a guy best friend who I can really trust."

Miles frowned. He couldn't let Tristan look so down on himself. He didn't know why but Tristan deserved his love. "C'mon Tris, you're one of the most lovable guys I know. Anyone who doesn't like you, they're crazy."

Tristan smiled. "That's sweet, Miles."

"I don't want you to worry about me though, Tris."

"Then don't give me anything to worry about, Miles. Talk to me. Talk about your problems so I can know how to help."

"There's nothing you can do, Tris. I'm fine, promise!" Miles said with a fake grin plastered across his face. And then he hissed as Tristan's hand brushed the bruise on his ribs.

"I can't help, huh?" Tristan asked. "Tell me who did this to you."

Miles turned away again. "I fell," he lied.

"I'm not stupid, Miles. If you care about our friendship as much as you say, don't lie to me."

Miles closed his eyes. "Okay, Tris. I'll tell you. Can we do this tomorrow? I just want a good night's sleep."

"On one condition," Tristan said. "You need to spend the night with me. I'm not stupid Miles. And neither is Maya. She told me how cruel your father is to you, and I've seen how you get when you talk about him. He hits you, doesn't he?"

"Tomorrow, Tris. I promise."

Tristan nodded as he leaned down to offer his hand to Miles. "We can walk to my house."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed :) Well as much as you can a darker fic.

Fun fact: I threw in the line about Hunter with lacrosse because the first time we see him at dinner with his family, he mentions lacrosse (which was promptly dumped as he became the gamer kid). I figured he played and hated it and was excited to never do it again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: This story has been knocked up to M rating. Upon rereading the ratings, T can not contain any adult themes. This story will, though it will be non-graphic.**

* * *

 **If I'm So Great...**

 _IV._

"Take a nap and I'll wake you for dinner," Tristan instructed him after they arrived to his house. They had walked there in mostly silence, but it was a pleasant silence. At some point Miles had grabbed Tristan's hand and hadn't let go. Attaching himself to Tristan was like attaching himself to a reality where he wasn't trash.

He collapsed into Tristan's bed and sighed in relief as it cushioned his fall. His own bed hadn't felt like a haven since his father had dragged him out of it a few nights ago. He smiled as he saw Tristan staring down on him protectively.

"I'm going to do some homework," Tristan said as he took a seat at his desk. "Don't let me distract you."

Miles rolled over to bury his face in Tristan's pillow and got a whiff of Tristan and he knew that at least for now he would feel safe. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

The next thing he knew, he was slowly climbing to awareness before opening his eyes. He felt a warmth beside him and his eyes found a dog lying next to him in bed. It was staring at him lazily, as if it had woken up along with him. A smile broke across Miles' face as he reached a hand out to pet it.

It was a small dog – a Chihuahua mutt of sorts. Very Tristan. Miles smiled at the thought of what Tristan would name it. It would be something cute like Bobbles. The dog loved the attention of him petting it and he had to roll out of bed to stop the dog from darting at his face with 'kisses.'

Miles was standing now and felt more rested than he had all week though he doubt he slept long. The sun was just beginning to set, so it was likely around 6 o'clock indicating that he slept for three to four hours tops.

Tristan was no longer at his desk, though a lamp was left on to illuminate the room from the dying light outside.

Miles crept out of the room slowly and peeked out into the hallway, finding no one and slipping outside. It was weird skulking around Tristan's house. He knew that Tristan would want him to feel comfortable to do whatever he wanted, but it was still weird. He hadn't had time to learn anything about Tristan's house when Tristan led him to his room as he had been too tired and out of it to pay attention. Also, he didn't know if Tristan's parents would be home so he was nervous about running into one of them.

He smelled traces of food in the air and decided to follow the smell. It led down stairs and he vaguely recalled Tristan leading him upstairs earlier as well. Upon reaching the bottom he turned to the left to see Tristan in the kitchen cooking on the other side of what appeared to be a living room. Tristan smiled when he saw him.

"Dinner will be ready soon, Miles," Tristan said with a grin. "Take a seat on the couch and I'll be there in a moment."

Miles plopped himself down on the couch and then nearly jumped as 'Bobbles' scampered up onto the couch next to him. Stealthy dog it was. He pet the dog mindlessly as he watched Tristan finish cooking. It was a weird feeling, but it was nice. He had never had a friend make him dinner. It was rare enough for his mom to care enough to cook for his siblings and him. He smiled and looked down in his lap in embarrassment at how good it felt to know that Tristan cared enough about him to make dinner for him.

He heard a clatter on the table in front of him and looked up to hear Tristan placing two plates and two glasses down.

Tristan smiled as he caught Miles' gaze. "I know you like tea so I made some for us. I hope you like chicken and pasta."

"I'd like anything you make me," Miles said with a blush. He eyed the chicken which was seasoned and brazed to a light orange-brown in pasta moistened with garlic butter. His stomach growled, causing him to blush again. Both he and Tristan struggled to keep an amused smile off their lips. Even 'Bobbles' was looking at him with wonderment in his eyes. He really was famished as he hadn't been in the mood to eat at lunch after the debacle with Maya this morning.

"Really, Tris, it looks great," Miles added with minor embarrassment.

"Oh, I can imagine," Tristan said with a smirk, looking at Miles' stomach. "When was the last time you ate exactly?"

"Who knows, I've not been feeling great the last few days," Miles muttered as he started forking food into his mouth.

"Tomorrow, I take it?" Tristan asked, referencing their agreement from that afternoon.

"Tomorrow," Miles agreed. He still had a few more waking hours before he would have to divulge everything to Tristan.

They ate in quiet for a few moment before Miles broke it. He owed it to Tristan for everything he was doing to at least converse with him. Plus, he was long overdue to learn about Tristan's home life.

"So, when are your parents coming home?" Miles asked between bites.

A mirthless laugh tore through Tristan's lips. "Who knows? They avoid coming home these days so they don't have to see each other. Not that I care. It's not like I want to hear their arguing."

Miles frowned. "I didn't know," he said as he looked into his lap. He placed a hand on Tristan's shoulder. "I'm sorry… I guess. I know what it's likes to not have your parents give a fuck about you."

"It's not that," Tristan corrected. "They care about me… it's just… they care more about yelling at each other than me. This time last year they used to pick me up from school. Now they don't even know when I get out as they're too busy arguing about who has to do it."

Miles leaned in to give Tristan a hug. "Don't worry, Tris. You have me. I'll walk home with you whenever you want. It was… fun." They shared a blush as shy smiles spread on both of their faces at the memory of holding hands on their way home.

"And you have me," Tristan said after a moment.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" Miles asked with a wink.

"Probably," Tristan answered. "Though I apologize in advance if my parents come home screaming."

"Don't worry, Tris. I would never blame someone for what their parents are like."

Tristan nodded. "Did you let your parents know you were spending the night?"

"They probably didn't even notice," Miles said with a shake of his head. "And if they did, my dad would kill me."

"He's that bad?" Tristan asked.

Miles was quiet for a moment, as he dug his phone out of his pocket to distract himself. "My dad… uh… he doesn't like you."

Tristan frowned. "Why? I've never even met him."

Miles looked away from Tristan. "I'm not going to lie to you, Tris. My dad's a bad guy. He hates you for the exact reason you think he does." Miles turned back towards Tristan and became upset at his frown. "Well, fuck him Tristan. I care about you and that's all that matters."

"As long as I can always trust you not to judge me for who I am, I'll always consider you a friend," Tristan assured him.

"I would never judge you, Tris. You're one of the kindest people I know."

They shared another nervous blush at that.

"You should still let them know you're not dead," Tristan suggested. "Don't tell them where you are and you're good."

"Ugh, fine. If it'll make you feel better," Miles agreed, glancing over his phones notifications. 2 missed calls, 14 missed texts. All from Frankie (plus one text from Hunter).

"Just my siblings," Miles informed Tristan as he scrolled through the messages. _'Where are you?' 'Miles' 'Are you alive.'_ All the basic texts. "I guess I should text her back to let her know I'm okay. My siblings and I actually get along, at least a little."

 _I'm fine, I'm spending the night with a friend_ , he texted her.

Tristan nodded in validation. "Sometimes it's your siblings that care the most," he whispered, though he clearly wanted Miles to hear it. Miles vaguely recalled Maya mentioning that Tristan had a protective older brother.

"Sometimes," Miles agreed. "Though I'm not sure that they would take my side when the time comes to it."

Miles saw concern cross Tristan's eyes, and he smiled when the other boy held his tongue. Tomorrow. He would know tomorrow. He had one more day of this friendship before he told Tristan all his secrets. He had tonight to convince Tristan that he was worth keeping.

The thought scared him a little. He knew that he should trust Tristan enough to not have to manipulate him for his trust. He couldn't help it though. His father really did a number on him. He couldn't think of himself without seeing the thing his father saw. The worst part was that he knew his self-image wasn't entirely true. It's what made it so hard. He couldn't blame not knowing why he hated himself. He hated himself because he was forced to. And he hated himself further for being willing to manipulate Tristan into wanting him.

He was shaken out of his trance by Tristan shaking him and indicating his phone. Frankie had texted him back. It read: _Call me to prove to me that you're okay and I'll cover for you._

Miles groaned in defeat and hit the call button above the text. Moments later he heard her voice.

"Oh, good, you are alive," she said. "You really shouldn't just run away like that on us, Miles. We were worried."

"Yeah, yeah," Miles grumbled. "I'm sorry for worrying you. You're the best sister ever."

"Ha, ha. Just because you're using that voice doesn't mean it's not true," Frankie said haughtily. "We'll talk tomorrow at school. I'll try to cover for you, but I won't lie. Who are you with?"

"Let's just say Dad cannot know about this," Miles said, and threw and apologetic look at Tristan. "He's harmless, don't worry."

He could feel Frankie smirk on the other end of the line as she said goodbye.

He turned to Tristan and smiled. "So that's out of the way now." There was a pause. "I'm sorry, Tris. I promise I'm not ashamed of you or anything. My dad just cannot find out that I'm with you. He's always hated anything gay. You're one of my best friends and I never want to hurt you."

Tristan placed a hand gingerly on Miles. "I know, Miles. I'm starting to understand a lot about you. But we'll discuss that tomorrow. Tonight we relax. I don't take it you'll mind skipping school tomorrow?"

A devilish look crossed Miles' face. "I'm quite fond of it actually."

 _V._

They spent the rest of the night watching pointless TV while waiting for Tristan's parents to return home. His father never did, but his mother got home around 9 o'clock and showed only mild interest in Miles' existence. Tristan muttered something under his breath about how she had not always been like that and Miles understood only all too well.

About an hour later, Miles took up Tristan's offer for a shower and pajamas, and counted himself lucky for once that Tristan was too self-conscious to let his eyes roam while he was changing, even though Tristan's self-consciousness usually upset him. He wasn't ready to talk about the bruises. That's for tomorrow.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch," Tristan said as Miles turned around, freshly dressed in pajamas.

"Nah, Tris. Don't let me take your bed. I thought we'd share it anyway. We're close enough for that," Miles suggested.

Tristan blushed. "I don't know, Miles."

"Come on, Tris. I was kind of looking forward to cuddling ourselves to sleep anyway," Miles insisted. "I'm a cuddler," he added with a wink.

"Oh, I hear that alllll the time on grindr," Tristan joked as flicked off the light. "All guys say they're cuddlers just to get into your bed."

Miles patted the spot next to him on the best in mock seduction. "I take it I succeeded?" Miles joked as Tristan climbed into bed next to him. "Aren't you a little young for dating apps?"

"Says the one who regularly steals his father's alcohol?" Tristan retorted with amusement.

"Touché," Miles replied as he climbed under the sheets and wrapped his arms around Tristan. He felt Tristan relax in his embrace.

"I should have known you were the big spoon," Tristan nearly gushed.

Miles couldn't keep a grin off his face at how cute it was.

"Night, Tris," Miles said as he closed his eyes.

"Night, Miles."

He barely heard Tristan's reply before he was out like the light.

 _VI._

It felt like no time had passed when Miles woke up in a cold sweat with his breath frozen in his chest. His eyes darted open only to be met with black save the scant light of the moon coming through a crack in the blinds. After a moment his body let him take a breath through the ice in his chest and he forced a puff in and out.

Calmer now, he remembered where he was. He was at Tristan's house. He was safe. But Tristan wasn't in his arms. They most have untangled at some point while sleeping.

He turned to face Tristan's general direction and met Tristan's grey eyes.

Tristan spoke when Miles saw him. "You okay? You were restless there."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Miles lied. "Why wouldn't I be?" He nearly slapped himself for giggling nervously.

Miles felt a soft touch on his shoulder as Tristan placed his hand there supportively. "You don't have to lie to me, Miles."

"I'm not," Miles insisted as he turned away. "Sorry for waking you."

Then he felt Tristan wrap his arms around him. "You can't lie to me, Miles. There's something between us. I see something in you. I feel like I know you."

Miles took a few breaths to relax in Tristan's embrace. "So, you're the big spoon now?" he tried to joke.

"Miles." Tristan's tone left no room to dodge. "Talk to me."

"Can we do it tomorrow?" Miles asked meekly.

"It is tomorrow. 12:42 AM exactly," Tristan said smartly as he waggled his phone towards Miles who cowered away from the bright light.

"You really going to pull that one, Tris?" Miles questioned. He didn't expect an answer. He couldn't hide his problems from Tristan anymore. The next five minutes would determine the fate of their friendship. "Okay, Tris. Let's talk. Where do you want to start?"

"Tell me how you got those bruises," Tristan stated and the frost returned to Miles' heart.

"What bruises?" Miles replied on instinct, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

"I saw them when you were lying on the grass outside of school today," Tristan stated. "They were bad, Miles. Don't tell me you bumped into a table or anything stupid like that. We both know that I know the answer, so just tell me."

"Tris…" Miles began. "I… it's not the first time it's happened. I'm pretty used to it."

"Being used to it doesn't make it okay, Miles," Tristan declared. "And you still need to tell me exactly what happened."

"Well, uh…uh you already know, you said?" Miles stammered. "Do I have to talk about it?"

"It's important that you're able to talk about it," Tristan insisted.

"I don't want you to judge me, Tris," Miles muttered as he tried to roll away, only to be stopped by Tristan's arm.

"I would never judge you. Not for this, not for anything," Tristan promised.

Miles was silent for a moment as he let his finger probe his stomach. He was too scrawny and boney and he wanted to laugh at himself for the days where he considered whatever he had to be abs. His finger brushed a bruise and he was reminded of another reason he hated his body. It bore the marks of what he it couldn't stop from happening to it.

"Okay, Tris. Yes, my dad hits me. But it's not usually this bad, I promise. He doesn't mean it, he just wants me to do better," Miles sputtered.

He felt Tristan arms embrace him more fully. "Don't Miles. Don't defend his actions," Tristan demanded. "It is not okay for him to hit you like that, not even once. No matter the reason."

"No, no," Miles muttered. "It's not like that. He only hits me because I mess up. It's my fault, Tris. I'm pathetic. I'm not the great guy you think I am. Would you even like me if you didn't like my face?"

"Of course you're a great guy, Miles. You're the greatest I've ever met," Tristan insisted.

Miles laughed sardonically at himself. "Please, Tris. If I'm so great, then why does my dad hit me?"

"Miles! You're a great guy. You try so hard to be a good friend. I know you do. Despite the callous side you show the world, you really do care. You showed that in Paris when you helped Maya find me."

"No, Tris. I'm pathetic. I've never been good at anything. I'm just the failure son. I can't find a girl to actually care about me. My only friend is Winston who has the emotional range of a cactus. I'm not worth your time," Miles bemoaned.

"We're friends, Miles. And don't you forget it," Tristan said with a pang sadness

Miles turned to look Tristan in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Tris. I didn't mean it that way. I care about you and Maya too much to mess it up. Why would you want to be friends with me after knowing all of this? My dad knew since I was eight that I am worthless."

"This would never make me stop being friends with you. It makes me want to protect you even more. You're afraid, Miles. I understand. It's scary thinking everyone is out to get you. I'm gay, you know, I had that phase."

"I'm afraid, Tris. I care about you so much. I don't want it to end," Miles stated as he looked longingly at Tristan.

"I don't want us to end either, Miles. You're the best friend I have ever had. We just… have a connection," Tristan tapered off.

Their eyes locked and Miles stared at Tristan's lips. "A connection," he muttered. Then he went in for a kiss, capturing Tristan's lips in his as his fingers brushed the other boy's jaw. He broke the kiss to find Tristan staring wide-eyed at him.

Tristan spoke after a moment. "Not that I mind, but why did you do that?"

"I sensed a moment," Miles replied with a smirk.

"Are you flirting with me?" Tristan asked nervously.

"Maybe." Then Miles went in for another kiss. Tristan was into it this time knowing that it was real, causing Miles to pull Tristan into a stronger kiss. Miles moaned as he felt Tristan's hand run up his side and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into the other's mouth. They struggled to figure out how to stop and ended up panting.

They were silent for a while before Miles spoke. "That was nice."

"It was," Tristan chuckled.

"It's hot," Miles said as he removed his pajama shirt. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Tristan snickered.

Miles grinned as he heard the shirt hit the floor. "I want you to be able to see all of me."

Tristan nodded. "And I want to _see_ all of you, too."

They laid side-by-side breathing heavily. Miles ached to be back in Tristan's arms, but they needed to cool off. Literally and figuratively. Kissing may have already been a bad decision, despite the power of the moment the two of them shared. Letting things go further would surely hurt their friendship.

It was confusing. He felt something for Tristan just now, though the feeling wasn't entirely new. He couldn't decide whether what he felt for Tristan was friendship, love or sexual desire. The third was painfully in his mind and pants right now, though he knew better than to act on it. He may never find someone who really cared again. He couldn't risk throwing it away on a fuck.

After some time Miles rolled back into Tristan's embrace. "Thanks. For tonight. For everything," Miles said as he passed out in Tristan's warm embrace, only vaguely hearing Tristan's affirmation of the same.

* * *

Well, I hope you enjoyed \o/ Posting this a day early on my Monday update schedule. Next update should be on April 4th.


	3. Chapter 3

_VII._

Miles awoke some time later to find the sun creeping in through the blinds. He looked to Tristan sleeping soundly next to him and smiled at him, before carefully untangling their bodies as to not wake the other boy up. He grimaced at the change in pressure on his bruises as he moved Tristan's arm off of him.

He crept quietly to the bathroom knowing Tristan wouldn't mind as the other boy had made it very clear that he was to feel at home. He squinted as he turned on the bathroom light and saw himself in the mirror over the sink. He rested his palms on the counter to hold himself up while he stared at shaky eyes. He took deep breaths while making sure the door was closed before he let the tears fall free. He wasn't ready to let Tristan see him cry.

His hand was trembling as he brushed his fingers over the bruise on his side. It was a sickening color like some twisted form of purple and yellow mixed together with black. It looked like death. Felt like it too.

He didn't know how to feel about that. The pain was more intense than it had been all week, though he knew logically it hadn't gotten worse. He knew that he had been hiding from the pain before – the pain of not being able to stop it from happening. Along with the psychological pain, he hid the physical pain. But he felt hope now. He felt like maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a life for himself where he wouldn't be hurt. It was his body's way of telling himself that he didn't have to be a coward. That maybe he was just as great as Tristan thought he was – a person who didn't deserve to be hit. He knew that on a logical level, but his mind wouldn't let him think that way. He'd been beaten into submission for so long that it's the only way he could think. His rebellion was always such an act between father and son; whenever he really wanted to be himself, he was beaten into the mold of the perfect son he could never really be.

Tristan had always been the one he talked to about all of this stuff, even before he thought to suspects the 'perfect' Miles Hollingsworth was anything but. Back on their outing in Paris he had felt closer to Tristan than he had anyone else. He went as far as to hint at the first time his father had beat him when he was taking that hip hop classes when he was a kid. It was the closest he had ever come. Not even Winston knew; he probably barely recalled the two weeks that Miles had refused to hang out with him or even go to school.

Miles wiped what tears that remained from his face before turning on the hot water in the shower as he kicked off his pajama pants. He was reminded of what had occurred last night between him and Tristan last night when he found his penis slightly sticky to the touch. He was thankful he had the presence of mind to keep what they did innocent. What he had with Tristan was new to him, but he'd think about it later.

He relaxed in the hot stream of water and finally let his mind go blank. The warmth soothed his bruises, and he angled it towards the water to rinse the skin, preferring that to the pressure that would be needed to clean it otherwise. His mind felt free as he ran his fingers through his hair.

He was surprised how refreshed he felt after stepping out of the shower. He didn't realize how much he had sweat while he was in Tristan's bed, though a heated make out session would do that.

The best part was that he finally had someone to talk to everything about. He just had to hope that he wouldn't scare Tristan away.

He dried off and then skulked back to Tristan's room with a towel held around his waist and his discarded pajamas in his free hand. Tristan was sitting up in bed half-awake.

"I thought you went to take a shower," Tristan sleepily muttered in acknowledgement at Miles' whereabouts.

"Yeah, hope you don't mind," Miles said. "I'm a morning showerer."

"It's fine," Tristan replied. "A bit early though, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but I should really get home. Thanks, Tris. For giving me a night away."

Tristan just looked at him. "Oh, you're not going home Miles."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You gonna stop me, Tris?" he joked, as he took a seat on the bed.

"You're going to spend the whole day with me, and then we'll figure out what to do about your dad."

"And what do you think we can do?" Miles asked darkly. "You have to know that if I could stop it, I would have by now."

"We aren't letting your dad hit you again. You're staying here until we figure out what to do." Tristan's tone left no room for argument.

"I'll…. think about it," Miles said. "Your parents won't mind?"

"You saw. They're never home and we have the money so you won't be a burden."

Miles smirked. "I don't think money will be an issue, Tris. I'm literally loaded."

"Plus, I'll have to get Maya to make you agree if you won't," Tristan threatened playfully.

Miles frowned. "Tris… can we not tell her?"

"Will you agree to stay away from your dad until we figure this out then?" Tristan bargained.

"Fine, I won't be around my dad until we figure this out. But what are we going to do?" Miles asked. Then he shook with a chill only now remembering he was clad in only a towel.

"We'll figure that out later. We're skipping so we have all day to talk about things. You are going to have to tell Maya though, Miles."

"Why?" Miles groaned.

"Well, you like her don't you? I mean, until yesterday you clearly wanted to date her," Tristan said with a blush.

"I guess…" Miles trailed off. "I do like her, but she doesn't like me."

"Of course she does, Miles. She's just taking things slowly after… her last boyfriend," Tristan explained.

"I mean… I just want someone that makes me happy. It doesn't have to be Maya," Miles said sheepishly. He watched as Tristan's blush returned. "After last night ummmm… Maya's not my only person of interest."

"Miles," he heard Tristan breathe.

"I don't want to lead you on, Tris. I like you, I really do," Miles promised. "I'm not sure that I like guys like that though… but I don't think I'm against it."

Miles brushed his lips over his teeth as he studied Tristan's face as it contorted through every emotion the blonde boy could muster.

"You okay, Tris? I hope being honest here was the right choice. I just don't want to hurt you with my trouble."

"It's fine, Miles. We're friends first. If we end up liking each other, we can worry about it later," Tristan assured him.

Miles leaned in for a kiss. It was a quick peck on the lips, but they both left it giggling. "No need to rush things," he said as his palm brushed Tristan's jaw. Then he stood up and dropped his towel, throwing a wink at Tristan when he blushed. "Now I need to get dress," Miles announced as he picked up his clothes he wore to school yesterday from the floor.

Tristan broke the silence as Miles was slipping his legs into his boxers. "I understand what it's like to not like your body," Tristan spoke with a hint of caution. "You have to know, physically, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Tris… it's not that simple," Miles mumbled as he slid his shirt over his head.

"I know, Miles. I still wake up and I hate to look in the mirror. I remember the jeers from when I was younger of people making fun of my weight."

Miles growled at the memory of his father making fun of Tristan's weight. It was people like him that had hurt Tristan when he was younger.

"You look great, Tris. Let me know if anyone says otherwise and I'll clobber them," Miles stated with conviction as he took a seat back near Tristan on the bed, now clothed in boxers and his t-shirt.

"Thanks, but who am I going to beat up for putting you down, Miles? Since you're the only one who hates your body."

Miles took a few breaths as he processed what Tristan said. He already knew it was true. "It hurts. Not being able to stop someone from kicking the crap out of you. It makes me feel weak. I deserve it though. Just look at me. I have no muscles. I have nothing anyone wants. Everything about me is too small," Miles bemoaned.

"I can tell you that not everything is too small," Tristan joked to lighten the mood. "Everything about you is perfect the way it is. Your father has made you hate yourself so you wouldn't fight back. We can help you fix this."

"Thanks, Tris. I'll try, for you," Miles said as he went in for a hug. "Now go take your shower. We have things to do today."

 _VIII._

They ate breakfast at around 8am, then headed out to Miles' home around 9. Miles was concerned that neither of Tristan's parents had been seen all morning and wanted more than ever to stay with him to keep him company.

It was a long walk, but by 9:30 they had arrived at Miles' home only breaking a minor sweat. Miles did a little dance in cheer as he saw his father's car wasn't there. His mother's was though.

He turned to Tristan as he heard him giggling. "What?" Miles asked with amusement.

"That little dance was cute," Tristan said through a blush.

Miles turned so Tristan couldn't see his face redden as he unlocked the door. "My mom might be home," Miles whispered. "Play it cool if we see her."

Tristan nodded as they entered into the kitchen.

Miles was ruffling the kitchen drawers looking for a trash bag when his mother entered the room. He turned around nervously to her with the newly found box of trash bags in his hands.

"Why aren't you at school, Miles," she grumbled from the doorway.

Miles frowned. "It's not even 10 AM, Mom. Are you drunk?"

"Don't mind me," she said as she shambled into the kitchen. "Frankie told me you were spending the night with a friend. You really should tell me yourself next time."

"Well you could have called if you actually cared?" Miles growled.

"Yeah, you're probably right," his mother stated. "Just let me know you're safe."

Miles nodded absently. "Sure, mom."

"Are you coming home tonight?" she asked.

Miles thought carefully for a moment. "No," he said. "I'm staying with Tristan again."

His mother nodded. "Alright, alright. Stay safe. When do you think you'll come back?"

Miles looked at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "Look, Miles, you know I don't mind your sexuality or whatever you do, but I know you and your father got into a fight over it."

"What? Mom, I'm not gay. Well, I don't think. We never fought over that," Miles uttered darkly, lips beginning to quiver with rage at the implication.

"Oh? I heard your father calling you a … well, a fag. I don't agree with his treatment of you, but don't be a baby, Miles. You don't need to run away from home to be gay. You'll always have a safe place here. I would never let your father kick you out."

Miles clinched his fist in anger. "You think he just called me a fag? Oh, did he tell you about how he hit me the other night? How he has been hitting me for years.

A shake of his mother's head dismissed his statement. "Your father would never hit you, he loves you."

"He would never hit me!? Explain this!" Miles bellowed as he lifted up his shirt to show her his bruised ribs.

She gasped with a sharp intake of breath, and her hand shot to her mouth and then to his ribs. He grimaced as her fingers brushed it. "Miles," she whispered in horror.

"That's the 'loving' father you married," he mocked as he strode from the room at a brisk pace, Tristan quickly in tow.

Tears began to fall as he they walked, and Miles slammed and locked the door behind Tristan as he entered the room. He pressed his back to the door, nearly hyperventilating.

"Miles," Tristan murmured, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

And then Miles crashed into Tristan's arms, tears falling forth. "She didn't believe me," he cried as Tristan's embrace tightened around him.

Tristan pat his back supportively as Miles cried. "She did, Miles. She did. It's going to take her some time, but you need to trust she is on your side."

"She's a drunk, Tristan. You saw her. It's not even 10 AM and she is already hiding from the world behind alcohol. She'll never confront this. She'll ignore it and hide. She'd rather let my dad beat me than realize she married a monster," Miles sobbed as he collapsed his weight in Tristan's arms.

"Even if, Miles, you're with me now. He won't ever hit you again as long as I'm alive," Tristan proclaimed. "You were my Prince Charming back in Paris, now let me be yours."

Miles nodded into Tristan's neck. "Thank you… this means so much," he said as he disengaged their embrace. "Can we get out of here? I don't want to be around this shit."

Tristan nodded. "Let's grab some clothes, and throw them in those bags you got from the kitchen. And let's grab your laptop and any important books."

Miles nodded, before adding, "Sounds good. I left my backpack and most of my books at school. I'll go grab some bathroom stuff," he mumbled as he went to brush his teeth. He avoid looking in the mirror as he did so; he didn't want to see his ugly face marred by tears.

He came back to his room with his arms full of bottles, a toothbrush and some toothpaste to find Tristan sitting on his bed waiting with a black garbage back of clothes sitting next to him. "That was fast," Miles complimented.

"Wasn't too hard. You look great in blue after all, so I just grabbed all of those. Plus, this wonderful pair of salmon pants."

"Ugggh," Miles grumbled. "Not those!" The absurdity of caring about some pair of pants considering the events of the morning almost cheered him up.

"Yes, those," Tristan chastised. Then he smirked. "I didn't think I would be touching your underwear anytime so soon though."

Miles got a laugh at that. "Touch them as much you want," he joked before he took one more glance around the room to check for anything else that he wanted. Finding nothing, he gestured to the door for them to leave. "Hopefully we can avoid my mom."

That would not be the case as she was at the kitchen table sipping at coffee. Miles tried to dash out before she could stop him, but she was more alert than he was used to.

"Miles, stop!" he heard her demand as he walked by.

"What, Mom?" he said as he turned to face her.

"Don't leave, Miles. I want home to be safe for you. I'll talk to your father, he'll never hit you again."

"You don't get it, Mom," he exclaimed indicating his ribs. "This isn't the first time he hit me. He's been hitting me since I was 8. You haven't noticed it, not once. What makes you think you can keep me safe? He'll promise you he'll never do it again, and as soon as you stop paying attention he'll come to my room with a golf club!"

His mother's hands were shaking and she was beginning to cry. "He would never, Miles."

"He would!" Miles screamed at her. "He's hit me before. Why do you think I stopped liking golf?"

"Stop it!" she cried. "I can't believe your father would do all this. Why do you have to keep making him so angry?"

Miles froze at that, and he saw a petrified look in his mother's eye.

"No, no, Miles," his mother cried out. "I didn't mean that. It's not your fault. Don't take it that way. Your father is not a bad guy. He just… just… I'll talk to him, Miles. This is your home, remember that."

Miles nodded distantly, waiting for an opening to leave.

"I'll make sure he doesn't cancel your debit card. Don't worry about money at all. I'll talk to him. Everything will work out, I promise," his mother pleaded.

"That's… something," Miles muttered. At least money wouldn't be a concern. "I'll talk to Hunter and Frankie. But I swear, if he ever hurts them because I'm gone…" he didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Come home soon?" his mother begged.

"Not while he's here," was Miles only response as he turned to leave.

"Wait, let me drive you," his mother stated. "You have a bunch of stuff, it would be a pain to walk to where ever… your friend lives," she said hesitantly.

"His name is Tristan," Miles admonished. "And don't use that tone to refer to him. He's the best friend I've ever had." Tristan smiled at him for that, and gripped his hand in support.

She nodded and stood to grab her keys. "Where does Tristan live?"

Miles laughed. "No, Mom. First, you're drunk. Second, I'm not going to risk you telling dad where Tristan lives."

She frowned but nodded sheepishly at her intoxication. "Yes, yes, that would be dumb. A cab, at least?"

Miles looked at Tristan who nodded his consent.

Fifthteen minutes later and some equally awkward and worthless chattering as his distraught mother got to know Tristan, the cab arrived and they were off. The ride was mostly silent as they processed what exactly had gone on. When they arrived at Tristan's house they quickly stepped out as Miles paid the driver.

"Just go and put all of your stuff in my room," Tristan said as he unlocked the door. "Then we can walk to the mall or something?"

"Sounds good," Miles said he walked up the stairs. He placed his stuff down in Tristan's room and then walked into the bathroom. He rinsed the dried tears from his face that he didn't remember crying, then looked into his eyes. There he found sparkle of hope there that he hadn't seen since Paris.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are more appreciated than you can imagine!


	4. Chapter 4

IX.

They went to the mall and spent hours doing a lot of nothing. It didn't surprise Miles that Tristan was a heavy shopper. He wasn't stereotyping him, swear, but Tristan struck him as the type to have a love of fashion. They spent hours browsing through JC Penny, Hot Topic and some shoes stores chattering away about the little details about themselves as they flicked through the racks: favorite colors, favorite types of shirt and the one time they liked a certain color being on that polo shirt that was a size too large for both of them were only some of the details they learned.

In Hot Topic Miles learned about Tristan's love for Kirby, the ravenous pink Nintendo character that managed to eat everything the few times he played Smash Brothers with his older brother. In turn, Tristan learned about Miles' love of Star Wars as he gushed over a Luke Skywalker t-shirt, and nearly threw on a pair of Chewbacca slippers then and there in the store. Ultimately they didn't buy anything as they didn't want to have to carry things around for the rest of the day. It may have been a nice Fall day, but they had no desire to have to carry things on a 30 minute walk home or drag it along on the bus. "I'm definitely getting those slippers next time," Miles lamented as they left the store.

It was now just before 3 in the afternoon and they were starving. Mall food may not be the best, but eating at the food court was part of the mall experience. Tristan got pizza at some crappy pizzeria (though the pizza itself looked good) while Miles got a chicken sandwich. Tristan was telling him about how he used to go to the mall with his mother and brother when he was little and he had so enjoyed riding a kiddy ride in the food court; it was a space ship that wobbled ever-so slightly but it was an adventure to a little kid. Miles recalled such a ride from when he was a younger and it was one of many things that made him want to go to space one day. He was about to tell Tristan that but was interrupted as his phone rang.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see that it was Frankie. "It's my sister," he informed Tristan. "Should I answer it?"

Tristan nodded. "You really should, she is probably worried you didn't go to school today. She even asked Maya and Zoe about it," he informed Miles, causing him to raise his eyebrow in question to Tristan. "Yes, I've been keeping Maya informed about what's going on – though she has some issues herself to deal with."

"The Facerange page," Miles muttered in recognition as he answered his phone. "Hey, Franks. What's up? It's 3 o'clock, shouldn't you be in your last class?"

"Miles, where were you today?" Frankie asked ignoring his question. "You didn't come home last night, and now you're skipping school. Are you back on drugs again?"

Miles frowned and shook his head even though he knew Frankie couldn't see. "No, no. I haven't done drugs since boarding school."

"Well, are you okay?" Frankie asked.

"I'm fine… I'm sorry Franke, but I won't be around much for a while," Miles said with a pang of guilt.

"What, why?" he heard his sister say with concern in her voice. `

"Mom said I could stay away for a while," he muttered, not wanting to explain things in detail.

"Why do you want to stay away, Miles?" his sister asked wistfully.

"Things have been really bad between dad and me lately," Miles glazed over the truth. "It's best if I am not around for a while."

"There's something you're not telling me," Frankie stated and her tone left no room for doubt. "I take it you won't be home tonight?"

"Nah, but I'll be at school tomorrow if you want to talk…" Miles trailed off.

"Yes, yes. We're doing lunch everyday while you're gone," Frankie demanded. "Can we meet up for dinner tonight? I'm bringing Hunter."

Miles was silent for a moment before answering. "Okay. Meet at the Dot at 6?"

"Sounds good," Frankie agreed.

"Oh, and whatever you do, don't tell dad about this or that you saw me outside of school," Miles ordered in the kindest tone he could.

"I'll tell Mom not to pick us up after dance practice. Hunter will be fine gaming till 5:30 anyway, then we'll head to the Dot."

"See you then," Miles said in agreement. "Bye, Franks." He heard something along of "Bye, Miles" as he hit the 'end call' button.

He looked up to see Tristan staring intently at him. "Looks like we're going to the Dot for dinner tonight, if you're interested?" Miles wondered.

"Sounds good," Tristan replied with a glint in his eyes. "Though the Dot is hardly a place I would consider dinner worthy."

"Haha, yeah," Miles said sheepishly. "I just needed neutral ground off the top of my head."

"Oh, yes!" Tristan agreed. "The Dot is an excellent neutral ground. I've seen quite some drama go down there over the years."

Miles smirked with amusement as he returned to his chicken sandwich. He noticed now that Tristan had finished his food at some point while he was on the phone, so he shoved the last third of his sandwich into his mouth at once. He collected their trash as he chewed his food then stood up.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asked Tristan as he grabbed both of their trays. "We have just over three hours before we need to be at the Dot. What do you want to do?"

"Follow me," Tristan instructed with a grin as Miles deposited their trash in the waste bin. Wherever they were off to, Miles was excited. He had rarely seen the other boy rush off so fast.

 _X._

The pet store. That was where Tristan had been itching to go all day, and Miles found it surprisingly cute. Tristan walked into the store with a grin on his face. Miles had a grin of his own that was strong enough to overpower the urge to contort his face in a grimace at the awful smell of the store. It was a smell of dogs and cats and a hint of poop masked in part by the scent of citrus like a bad cologne. He had a scant memory of visiting such a store when he was younger, probably around 6, when he had almost gotten a kitten; he had named it Furball and was ready to walk out of the store with it after his mom had paid for it, only for his dad to show up and shut down the transaction. He had cried for weeks about losing his pet, but had swiftly forgotten it until this moment.

He lost sight of Tristan for a moment as he was lost in thought, but he quickly found Tristan leaning over the ledge of a bin of kittens. Miles felt his lips spread wide into a full mouth smile as laughter rolled out of him at the sight of kitten crawling up the arm of Tristan's jacket. Tristan was laughing himself before an employee came to gently pick two of the kittens off of him.

Tristan nodded his thanks to the employee before he waltzed on over to the puppies lined up along the wall. He stopped in front of a Chihuahua that looked very similar to 'Bobbles' and placed his hand lightly on the window.

"Same breed as your dog?" Miles asked as Tristan smiled at the puppy who was excited to have attention.

"More or less," Tristan replied. "I'm not really familiar with breeds and stuff, but he looks similar."

"So, what is your dog's name? You never told me. I've been referring to him as 'Bobbles' in my head?" Miles asked, then blushed at revealing the silly name he made up for him.

Tristan let out a hearty laugh at Miles' expense at the name. "Bobbles?" he struggled to say through his chuckles. "Why Bobbles?"

Miles had a hand on his stomach to try to stifle his laughter as he fought for breath. After composing himself to a degree, he replied. "I was trying…" more laughter, "to think of a name that you would name a dog." They shared a tight lip smile at that. "At first I thought "Bubbles," but that was a little too far."

Tristan now had his hand clapped over his mouth, but his embarrassment was heated on his cheeks. "It's actually worse," Tristan cracked out. "Mr. Gaga."

Miles eyes nearly bulged out of his head as a fresh round of laughter tore through him.

"What?" Tristan exclaimed. "It was 2010! It was a crazy time for us Little Monsters!"

Miles' hand was over his face to hold in laughter and snorts at that. "Mr. Gaga," he muttered into his hand just loud enough for Tristan to hear.

They continued giggling as they left the chihuahua's window and approached some dog toys. They ignored they disturbed looks that the few other customers were giving them at their laughter as they checked out the dog toys.

"Most of these are too big for Mr. Gaga," Tristan bemoaned.

Their giggling continued as they left the shop. They ran through the mall giggling and Miles knew Tristan loved this – it felt like some bad montage from a bad rom-com, but it was fun! They passed jewelry booths, cell phone booths, and even a hair salon at a little table before they burst outside into the fresh fall air. Miles had never felt so high on life before, and it felt amazing! He didn't remember the last time he felt so free! It's like they say, laughter is the greatest medicine.

 _XI._

They found a bench outside the mall and sat there for an hour enjoying the chilly afternoon air. The high from laughter eventually died down, and then they enjoyed their new ecstasy of sitting down as they had been on their feet for most of the day. They relaxed as best they could on the uncomfortable bench, and chatted about a bunch of nothing before it was time to head to the Dot.

They walked to and arrived at the Dot 15 minutes early, and claimed a table once inside. They saw Zoe off with some girls and Miles waved at her, only to stop when he noticed Tristan glaring at Zoe. Miles awkwardly lowered his hand as his face turned red in embarrassment, and he broke gaze with Zoe, realizing he wasn't supposed to be friends with her right now. It was fine by him; short of kissing her in Paris he hadn't cared much for the girl.

"Yo, Tris," Miles whispered to Tristan who was seated next to him. "Why are we mad at Zoe… this time?"

"That bitch was the one who made the Facerange page of Maya," Tristan answered.

Miles heart clinched. He knew that Zoe was the vindictive bitch type, but that was too far. He looked back at her to see her eyes pleading for attention, and looked away before he could say something that he would regret. It didn't escape him that he was angry for Maya. Spending all of this time with Tristan had been intoxicating to the point that he had forgotten his feelings for Maya, but they all came rolling back now. An image of her face surrounded by blonde curls filled his mind and he smiled.

"What are you smiling about?" Tristan asked shyly next to him.

Miles blinked as his gaze moved to Tristan. He was no less interested in the face of the blonde boy next to him than he was in Maya. He didn't know how to feel about this. Life would be so much easier if he just settled for Maya; he had no doubt that he liked her, so it would hardly be an awful choice. But there was something about Tristan that was extra. He knew Tristan was a guy, his best friend this last day, but he didn't feel like just a guy to him. He was just a Tristan.

"Just thinking," Miles sang in reply to Tristan. "I really enjoy being with you."

"Same," Tristan gushed. They both knew this was like the fifth time that they had had this exchange today, but it felt just as amazing each time.

Miles heard the bell ding as the door opened, and he saw his siblings walk in. He smiled as Frankie approached their table with Hunter in tow. She crushed him in a hug as she approached and Hunter gripped his shoulder in greeting before they both took a seat. As they settled, Miles introduced them to Tristan with a gesture. "Tris, Frankie, you know each other. Hunter, Tristan, I'm not sure but now you do."

The twins nodded their greeting before Frankie got things on track – always the one to get down to business she was. "Don't think you're leaving this table until I know all the details," Frankie stated as she flagged down a barista. The three Hollingsworth siblings each ordered a burger and fries, while Tristan just ordered a salad – delayed, so they could all eat together.

Things were silent for a moment before Frankie predictably broke the silence. "Spill," she demanded towards Miles.

"Spill what?" Miles feigned ignorance.

"Why did you run off with Tristan yesterday? Last I heard you went to English and didn't show up anywhere after that."

"It's complicated," Miles muttered. "Can't we just keep things casual about this?"

Frankie huffed in annoyance. "Excuse me for wanting to know about the love life of the only brother I have who has one."

Hunter jammed his elbow into her at that, while Miles raised his eyebrow in confusion. Tristan blushed at the implication.

Seeing the 'dumb' look on Miles' face, Hunter interjected. "She means she wants to know what's going on between you and Tristan. Dad hates gays and now you're running away with Tristan."

"Hunter!" Frankie admonished. "Show a little tact." Her gaze then shifted to Miles. "So, are you? Gay?"

There was no judgement in either of his siblings' voices. The Hollingsworth kids never judged one another; Hunter in particular due to his sheer apathy about most things. His statement was most likely only a result of Frankie's observation at some point earlier in the day.

Miles was fine with this and he shrugged. "I don't know. Tris and I… we have something good," Miles whispered as his hand found Tristan's under the table. "I don't know if I like guys, but that has nothing to do with me staying away from home."

"Miles!" Frankie hissed. "No games. Tell me what is going on. I'm worried."

"Do I really need to tell you?" Miles asked. Then he held his hand up to stop her from complaining. "Yes, you need to know, but do I have to tell you? Can you not figure it out for yourself?"

Frankie blinked in confusion as Hunter shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Are you claiming dad hit you again?" the boy asked.

Miles felt Tristan's hand tighten around his as the blonde spoke for him. "Claiming?" he exclaimed harshly.

"That's not what he meant?" Frankie said as she put her hand protectively on Hunter. "He meant…" but was interrupted as Hunter shrugged her arm off him.

"I can speak for myself," he muttered towards her before turning his attention to Tristan and catching Miles smirk out of the corner of his eye. "Miles has claimed several times in the past that dad has hit him. Mom always ignored it as he never had any proof, though Frankie and I have had our suspicions…" he trailed off, gaze now on Miles and studying him.

Miles took a deep breath to absorb those words. It might not be everything he could hope for, but it was more than he ever expected. His siblings were on his side – well, mostly. They would easily believe that he had been hit; they already suspected it and the bruise would be more than enough should they ask. It was time to talk about things.

"Well, you're not wrong," Miles began, then stopped. How much should he tell them? Not even Tristan knew the full story yet. The fewer details the better. His siblings and he had never been ones to judge each other; he wasn't about to give them details that they could look down on him for. He couldn't let them know how much he hated himself.

His stomach contorted in pain at how fast everything changed. An hour ago he was on top of the world, and now he had dragged himself to the deepest pit of despair.

"Ye-yeah," Miles giggled. _What is happening to me?_

He felt himself sweating and he had at some point snatched his hand away from Tristan's to wring his them in his lap.

"He-he, he hits me," Miles giggled as he rushed a nervous hand over his eyes and through his hair. "It's no big deal, I just don't want to be around that. It's not fun. He usually doesn't leave bruises. It's no big deal, I promise!" he continued in a ramble, ending in a wild grin at his siblings.

He felt Tristan worriedly searching for his hand under the table as he watched his siblings' faces. Hunter's lips were a straight line as he looked above Miles' head to see if their food was on the way out, only his peripheral paying attention to the situation at the table. Frankie's eyes looked haunted.

Miles' face flushed again in shame. He hid nothing, he had only made things worse. He ignored whispers of his name as Tristan tried to get his attention.

Miles giggled again. "I'm fine, I promise!" None had doubt that his giggles were lies, but their attention was shifted as Hunter's face brightened and he licked his lips. They all turned to see their food on the way.

Miles deftly avoided any further conversation about himself as they ate. "How's lacrosse, Hunter? Oh, gaming? Sounds fun! Better than some shitty sport! Tristan and I are having fun in basketball, he's better than me though. How's the dancing Frankie? Zoe is working you hard?" He said anything that would help him avoid talking about himself.

Their dinner passed without much more event. Hunter gave up trying to get more details out of Miles; he knew all that he needed to know, and probably felt that Miles would be better off at Tristan's anyway. He saw from the look on Tristan's face that he had resigned himself to talk to Miles more at home. Frankie on the other hand was glaring daggers at him the whole time as he blocked her from getting a word in edgewise.

"Mom will be here in 15," Hunter said as he cleared the last of the fries from his plate.

Frankie nodded as she did the same. Tristan had finished his salad a while back, and had been absently nodding throughout Miles utterings, collecting information to badger him on later.

Miles looked down to his plate to see that most of its contents were left as he had been too distracted by rambling to eat much. He shoved the last half of his burger in his mouth and was grateful at the excuse not to talk. He struggled to keep his food in his mouth as the three boys laughed at Miles' bulging cheeks, but Frankie was not amused.

Miles paid for all their meals to take advantage of the card his mother let him keep. As their server returned with his card, Frankie stood up and shooed Hunter out the door. "Miles," she said to get his attention. "A minute alone?"

He groaned but consented as Tristan followed Hunter. They stood near the door as Tristan and Hunter waited outside on a bench. "Are you going to be okay?" Frankie asked without preamble.

Miles mulled over the concept of 'okay' for a moment and came up with the best answer that he could. "I hope so," was all he could muster. He wasn't sure what 'okay' meant anymore, but he would do his best to be the person those he loved wanted him to be.

 _XII._

They arrived back at Tristan's house around 8 as they walked home from the Dot to keep Miles' mother in the dark about where Tristan lived. No one would find out, short of one of his siblings managing to drag the secret out of Maya.

Miles flopped down on Tristan's bed in an exhausted huff. Not only had today been emotionally exhausting, but they had been on their feet since 9 AM. He didn't want to have to move for the rest of the night, but he realized he would have to as Tristan threw a towel at him.

"Shower time!" the blonde chirped. "No way are you sleeping in my bed smelling like that."

Miles grumbled as he forced himself to his aching feet. He hadn't realized it much throughout the day, but now that he was home and ready to pass out, the ache was real. He chuckled to himself at that. Home. Tristan's little room felt like home to him.

"What?" Tristan queried at Miles' chuckle.

"Oh, just wondering if you're going to take this one with me?"

Tristan blushed furiously. "Oh, no, I couldn't."

"Come on, Tris. We've done everything else today. Might as well shower together," Miles suggested with a wink.

"I'm embarrassed," Tristan moaned.

"Don't be, Tris."

"I mean… I know you've seen me shirtless in the locker room, but taking a shower is something different."

"I promise you, Tris, you have nothing to ashamed of," Miles murmured as his fingers brushed under Tristan's jaw. It was their thing now it seemed. "You don't judge me for me and I don't judge you for you. It's what we do."

Tristan's face flushed a fresh shade of red as he picked up a towel from his closet for himself. Not for the first time today they shared a giggle as they went to the bathroom together. As Miles closed the door behind them he pulled off his shirt.

"It's nice, Tris. Knowing that you don't hate any of this," he said, gesturing to his body, fingers slowing as they hovered of his marks of shame. "I want you to know that I feel the same way."

Tristan nodded as Miles helped lift his shirt over his head. Miles rubbed his hands down Tristan's sides. The blonde wasn't muscular nor skin and bones like Miles, but he was just Tristan. That's all he ever had been to Miles.

Miles unbuckled his pants and slid them down to his knees along with his boxers before kicking the off as he reached down to remove his socks. He looked up to see Tristan doing the same and they both wound up naked.

They chuckled as they saw each other before Miles led them to the shower. He turned on the hot water and then signaled when the water was just the right temperature for them to step in. Miles sighed in relief as the warm water hit his tired body and he embraced Tristan in a hug, neither of them noticing really that they were naked.

"This is nice," Tristan murmured into his neck.

"Yeah, Tris. Yeah. Just you and me, always," Miles whispered into his neck before pulling back and placing a kiss on his lips.

They backed away from one another with chuckles as Tristan turned to grab a bottle of shampoo. They rinsed their hair with it as Tristan passed Miles the conditioner. Miles enjoyed the sweet scent of Tristan's washes compared to the 'manly' stuff his mother bought him (though Tristan could add some cinnamon to his scents). Then he gasped as Tristan hands brushed his bruising. They locked eyes and Miles nodded as Tristan attentively cleaned and soothed his wound.

Three days ago he thought he was all alone, but he never really was. He always had Tristan to care about him in the best way possible.

* * *

This fic started as a writing experiment of "fully seat of the pants." It worked out great at first as I churned out 9000 words in 2 sittings, but then I gradually lost interest. So I am ending this here. It is at a completion point at the moment (Though more like a check point than truly finished). This fic needs to be rewritten and extended, but it is not my immediately goal. So consider it completed for now and I hope you enjoyed it :) if it helps, think of this as an extended 'one-shot.'

I would like to delve deeper into the dark parts of Miles' self esteem in a future rewrite. I was too nice to him D: Also, I would like to deal more with his feelings for Maya (which are left open here) and bring in his friendship with Winston a bit more. But, that's for the future. This fic ends well enough I feel.


End file.
